Friday, October 27, 2006

More quotes.

I know a girl who cries when she practices violin because each note sounds so pure it just cuts into her, and then the melody comes pouring out her eyes. Now, to me, everything else just sounds like a lie.

Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes




You said, "Tonight is a wonderful night to die." I asked, how could you tell? And you told me to look at the sky. "Look at all those stars. Look at how goddamn ugly the stars are."

Alkaline Trio


All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.

Animal Farm by George Orwell





Anna Akhmatova, "In Memory of M. B."

Here is my gift, not roses on your grave,
not sticks of burning incense.
You lived aloof, maintaining to the end
your magnificent disdain.
You drank wine, and told the wittiest jokes,
and suffocated inside stifling walls.
Alone you let the terrible stranger in,
and stayed with her alone.

Now you're gone, and nobody says a word
about your troubled and exalted life.
Only my voice, like a flute, will mourn
at your dumb funeral feast.
Oh, who would have dared believe that half-crazed I,
I, sick with grief for the buried past,
I, smoldering on a slow fire,
having lost everything and forgotten all,
would be fated to commemorate a man
so full of strength and will and bright inventions,
who only yesterday it seems, chatted with me,
hiding the tremor of his mortal pain.